


Melt

by alwaysastorm



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Formula One, M/M, Male Slash, Masturbation, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-21
Updated: 2013-08-21
Packaged: 2017-12-24 06:11:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/936336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwaysastorm/pseuds/alwaysastorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written at the end of 2009 for the LiveJournal F1 Slash Kink meme.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Felipe is about to ask why there are 4 glasses when there is a knock at the door. Kimi holds his gaze for a moment, and Felipe is sure he detects a slight smirk on the Finn’s normally deadpan face.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Melt

**_Set post-Malaysia GP 2009_ **

Felipe nods a hello as Kimi opens his hotel room door, pauses slightly before walking in. The room is dim, save for the flickering light of the TV that’s showing some football match. Felipe isn’t sure what. He surveys the rest of the room, it’s typical of the many he sees in his job. Identikit beds, furniture, lampshades. It looks just like his own, only a few doors down, except that strangely, Kimi’s is tidier. There’s no clothes strewn over the bed, no signs that someone has been sleeping here for the last 4 nights. What there is, however, is 4 shot glasses on the table, and a bottle of something clear and definitely alcoholic sitting innocently beside it. Felipe raises an eyebrow and slides his hand down the side, the heat from his palm melting its icy coating. They both look at it for a second and Felipe isn’t sure what to say.

“Koskenkorva,” Kimi eventually states. “It’s like vodka.”

Felipe is about to ask why there are 4 glasses when there is a knock at the door. Kimi holds his gaze for a moment, and Felipe is sure he detects a slight smirk on the Finn’s normally deadpan face. For something to do, he picks up the remote control, hoping he can watch some football, but when he turns, he sees Robert and Fernando. Robert says hello, while Fernando raises an eyebrow at Felipe, seemingly as confused as he is. Robert pulls a chair away from the dining table and flops into it, long legs sprawling out before him. Fernando sits to his left, his hands below the table, regarding the bottle with a grimace. Felipe, unsure of what to do, sits beside him with his arms crossed, with Kimi opposite the 3.

“Where are the cards?” Robert asks. Felipe sighs inwardly. He knows about the F1 poker club that meets after races, but he’s not a fan. Too much thinking. He’d rather play video games, watch some TV, relax his mind. Card games just aren’t his thing. For one, he can never keep a straight face or keep quiet for that long. And playing with Kimi? He can’t read Kimi’s expression under normal circumstances, let alone when his teammate has a poker face.

“No cards,” Kimi shrugs, pulling the glasses towards him and unscrewing the lid off the bottle.

Felipe looks to Fernando, who shrugs. Robert’s brow is furrowed, his mouth downturned in what looks like boredom. He hears the glug of the potent spirit as Kimi pours them a shot each. Robert throws his back, seeming unconcerned. Fernando swallows his with reluctance, a look of distaste appearing on his face.

“It’s good,” Kimi nods, emptying his glass. Felipe gives it a sniff, wishing it was a Caipirinha, or even champagne – but there was none of that for any of them today. He’s aware of 3 pairs of eyes studying him closely, and knocks back the shot, trying to appear as blasé as Robert did.

“Just like water,” he quips, wiping any residue off his lips with the arm of his Ferrari sweater. They all laugh, and some of the strange tension in the room lifts. Felipe sighs and scratches his head.

“No poker then, Kimi?” he asks.

Kimi smiles wryly.

“I’m not interested in card games. I have another game. I ask a question. If you don’t answer – or if I think you’re lying, you have to take a drink.”

Felipe chuckles, unconcerned. He considers himself to be an open guy. He’s not easily embarrassed either. Kimi always seems like he has so much more to hide. He’d played Truth or Dare before – how could this be any different? Usually if he gets uncomfortable when being asked questions, he makes a joke, or flashes a smile – it’s his way of dealing with things. Always has been.

Kimi pours them all more shots. Robert has his arms crossed, looking like he has seen this all before. Fernando is silent. Felipe knows that the Spaniard is a quiet guy underneath it all, despite the outspoken persona and occasional petulant comment, but he seems lost in his own thoughts tonight. Kimi finishes pouring, then smiling, asks them all when they last had sex. They all answer sheepishly. None of their wives or girlfriends are here this weekend, Felipe says, so what kind of answer does Kimi expect?

Kimi gives a nonchalant shrug.

“You need a wife or girlfriend to have sex?” he asks.

Felipe’s brow furrows. He’s heard the rumours, everyone has. Kimi cheating, Jenni cheating. Felipe doesn’t pay attention. What his teammate does in his own time, and God knows that could be anything, is his own business.

“Well - yes,” Felipe replies.

Kimi slowly pushes a shot glass towards Felipe, his pale hands steady.

“I think someone needs to take a drink.” 

Felipe tries to ignore Robert and Fernando’s stares. He pushes the glass back to Kimi.

“I think someone’s full of shit.” 

Kimi smiles in that infuriating lop-sided way and turns to Robert.

“And you? You need a wife or girlfriend to get a fuck?”

Felipe sees Robert look down at his drink and blink slowly, turning his eyes to Kimi self-assuredly.

“No,” Robert answers. “No, I don’t. Always there are women.”

Felipe shares a glance with Fernando. He seems to be squirming slightly, not the self-confident man he is used to seeing striding around the Paddock. Felipe’s stomach plummets as he hears Kimi’s next question.

“Just women?”

Robert throws his head back and laughs. Felipe shakes his head and smiles, as if what Kimi has just said is preposterous. He feels his palms begin to sweat and his heart starts to thud a little quicker than normal. This is why Kimi un-nerves him sometimes. He acts aloof, like he doesn’t pay attention. When in reality he knows about everything that goes on. Everything.

4 full shots sit before them.

“If no-one is going to answer, we all have to take a drink,” Kimi says, staring at Felipe.

“It’s not a proper question,” Fernando retorts, rubbing his stubbled chin self-consciously as Robert turns to look at him.

“He’s right,” Robert concedes.

Kimi runs a steady hand through his fair hair.

“Okay then. Who has fucked a man?”

Felipe stares down at the table. If he tells Kimi no, that of course none of them have, he is sure his voice will come out croaky; that they’ll all stare at him as he speaks and his face will betray him. He’s been telling the truth all evening – it’s just Raffaela for him. Few women before her and certainly no others since. But there’s part of him that no-one knows about, or so he thought. Does Kimi know? Know that there’s him and his wife, but yet sometimes there is Rob. Because Rob understands him. Felipe is aware of the things that go on in their world. Between teammates, ex-teammates, rivals, friends... but he’s never wanted to be part of that. Power struggles, and games, and jealousy. It is simply him, and it is Rob, and there are no questions, no jealousy, nothing but the two of them and the trust they have in one another. And no-one else needs to know about that.

No-one has yet answered. Felipe clears his throat, and looking up, sees Kimi is staring at him, those cold blue eyes practically looking right through him.

“That drink is too much for me,” he says, giving a nod to the Koskenkorva. He stands up, slapping Fernando on the back and giving a brief wave to Robert. “I have to call Raffa. Later guys.”

He walks past Kimi, who leans back in his chair and holds out a hand. Felipe shakes it, and Kimi’s thumb stretches out, pressing on the pulse point on his wrist, as if he’s aware of how much Felipe’s heart is hammering in his chest. Their eyes lock, and Felipe sees something in there that he’s never seen before. Confusion? Regret? He isn’t sure. What he does know is that he has to get out of this room. 

 

*

 

Fernando watches the Brazilian leave the room, and inwardly sighs. He’s tired, and unsure what’s going on here. Robert and Kimi are a different breed. He understands Felipe, feels some kind of affinity with him despite the differences they may have had in the past. He isn’t sure if it’s the Latino blood running through their veins, or the fact that they both lay their feelings out on display. Not like the 2 men sitting in front of him. He’s not even here to play poker, and yet he still can’t read their faces.

“Fuck it,” Kimi exclaims, downing Felipe’s remaining shot, his own, and then re-pouring. “Let’s just keep drinking.”

Fernando looks at Robert and sees that wry grin spread across his angular face.

“Why not,” Robert agrees, clinking his glass against Fernando’s and gulping it down.

Fernando swallows it as fast as he can. He’s not much of a drinker; can’t even bear the taste of alcohol normally, but no sooner has he set his glass down than Kimi is topping it up again. Kimi and Robert chug back the strong spirit relentlessly. Fernando tries to keep up, but his head becomes woozy and he puts his hand over the glass when Kimi moves to pour again.

“Okay,” Kimi nods. “Maybe later, for you. Robert?”

Robert holds out his glass, and Fernando feels his eyes narrow as he and Kimi smile at one another. He feels that burning urge he always has in his stomach – that urge to always be number one, to dominate everyone else. The urge to always get what he wants. Robert. The possessive feelings coursing through him as he sees the affinity between Robert and Kimi makes him hold out his glass and demand another drink.

Kimi raises an eyebrow, then laughing wickedly, shakes his head.

“Only if you answer the question.”

“I thought we were done with that game,” Fernando retorts.

“So? I feel like playing again.”

Fernando sits back in his chair casually. He felt edgy during this ‘game’ earlier. Now he feels calm, in control; that competitive edge driving away any nervousness or anxiety.

“So go ahead, Kimi.”

“Same question as earlier. Have you ever fucked a man?”

Fernando knows he’s drunk. It’s an unfamiliar feeling, but the desire to come out on top is not. He looks at Robert, who nods. Go ahead, Fernando.

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“Why should I tell you?”

Kimi rolls his eyes, sitting back and feigning disinterest.

“It doesn’t bother me whether you tell me or not.” He motions towards Robert. “I know it’s him. The question is... who else do you want to fuck?”

Fernando frowns, raises an eyebrow. He’s not going to back down. He can’t back down, it’s not in his nature. So Kimi knows about he and Robert, it doesn’t matter. More alcohol is consumed, Robert moves closer, as does Kimi, who is opposite Fernando. He leans in, near enough so that Fernando can just about detect the smell of his aftershave.

“Nelson,” Kimi suggests.

“He’s a child.”

“Nico.”

“Not a challenge.”

Kimi sneers slightly.

“Lewis.”

“Never.”

Fernando waits for the next question, sees Kimi’s grasp on his glass visibly tighten.

“Felipe?”

“We all know who he’s tied to.”

“That’s wasn’t a no.”

“It wasn’t a yes.”

“So then who DO you want to fuck?”

Kimi pauses, looks Fernando up and down. Fernando feels his chest rising and falling. He knows Robert is beside him, but all he can see right now is Kimi. He knows he’s drunk, they all are. And he knows that this is all getting dangerous – but that just makes him want to see this through even more. He won’t quit. Kimi wants to go to the edge? He’s got it. He has to answer.

“You.”

In a blur, Kimi knocks back a shot. Fernando stands up, aware of brushing past Robert’s long legs in an attempt to get to the Finn. He grabs the collar of Kimi’s black sweater, slamming him against the wall. He presses his lips against the other man’s, and immediately his mouth is flooded with Koskenkorva as Kimi gives him the shot that he swigged back seconds before. In shock, Fernando gulps it down.

“You didn’t swallow,” Fernando whispers, and Kimi gives a knowing wink before his lips are on his once again.

Kimi’s lips are hot, moist. Fernando had always imagined they’d be cold, unyielding. All these years, he’s imagined this. Imagined he and Kimi – he doesn’t know why it has taken so long. The two of them seem so right. The two great drivers, the two champions. He doesn’t count Lewis, will never count Lewis. He would rather not think of him at all.

Fernando feels Kimi’s strong hand tangle in his dark hair, pulling the Spaniard’s mouth to his. Fernando melds his body closer, allowing Kimi to manoeuvre him so it’s _his_ back against the wall. Now his hands are in Kimi’s hair, his fingers tugging at the blond curls, aching for that mouth to come nearer, nearer. Kimi’s tongue slides against his, saliva mingled with the taste of the alcohol. He bites Fernando’s bottom lip wickedly as he edges a hand lower. Fernando feels Kimi fumble with the button on his jeans, and as he hears the noise of his zipper being lowered, Fernando gives a groan, yearning for Kimi to do something, _anything_ to relieve the aching need of his tumescent cock. The Finn’s hand skims across it tantilisingly, then pulls away.

“Kimi...” Fernando moans.

“Shut the fuck up,” Kimi replies, a smile in his voice. “You talk too much.”

Fernando gives a long _“Fuck”_ as Kimi drops to his knees, taking the turgid dick into his mouth. Is this happening? Kimi, of all people, with his mouth wrapped around his cock, expertly sliding his lips up and down the shaft, circling the head with his tongue. Fernando closes his eyes, his hands on either side of Kimi’s fair head, stroking it softly and resisting the urge to press it closer to his groin, anything to get relief.

A voice.

“Fernando.”

Fernando wrinkles his nose. No distractions. He just wants to hear the faint slapping sounds of wet skin against wet skin; hear his own panting and Kimi’s dry chuckle as he realises how much the other man is enjoying this. But there it is again.

“Fernando.”

Reluctantly Fernando opens his eyes. Sees Robert, still on the chair, but with legs spread and his pale hand reaching into his jeans to pull out his long, thick dick. Fernando takes a short inward breath as he feels his cock swell even further. He’s going to die, literally die if he doesn’t come soon, and he clasps his hands behind his back so that he doesn’t just grab Kimi’s head and start fucking his mouth. He can hear Robert’s heavy breathing as he watches Kimi’s head bobbing up and down beside Fernando’s groin, and Fernando sees him take his meaty shaft in his hand and begin to stroke himself in time with Kimi’s movements, shifting in his seat so that he can pull his full length from his trousers. Fernando watches as the long tapered fingers move rhythmically up and down his erection; it’s so in sync with Kimi’s sucking that it’s almost as if Robert’s hands are masturbating him too. Both their breaths are coming in gasps now and as Fernando sees the plume of come spurt from Robert’s dick, he feels the aching in his balls reach a climax, and erupts into Kimi’s mouth.

Seconds pass, and Kimi stands up, kissing Fernando with dry lips. Fernando closes his eyes and his brow furrows as the lips disappear, only to be replaced by a different pair. Fernando recognises the smell, the taste, the mouth. Robert. The kiss is tender, longing, unfamiliar in its softness. Fernando is used to pushes up against locked hotel room doors; quick fucks in motorhomes; emotionless post-race sex. This is different, meaningful. Maybe what he’s been wanting, not that he’d ever say so. But why now? When they’re not alone, when they’re being watched? Fernando opens his eyes and sees dark, dark green staring back. There are questions in the eyes but Fernando is scared to answer them. 

 

*

 

Robert presses his face into Fernando’s neck and inhales deeply. Takes in the smell of the older man. His friend. His Fernando. He brushes his lips against the tanned collarbone, letting his tongue probe the muscles of that strong neck. Robert feels Fernando’s mouth pressed against the top of his head, his breathing shallow.

“Nano,” Robert mumbles. He eases his hand beneath Fernando’s t-shirt, running his way up the taut muscles of that toned stomach, eventually resting on the contoured chest. Robert could stay forever like this, if he wasn’t so blatantly aware of Kimi behind them, sitting on the bed and swigging from the bottle. He feels Fernando’s hands on the small of his back, rubbing it softly, almost teasing him by not allowing the hands to go lower. Robert closes his eyes, wondering how it has come to this. Their friendship. They laugh and joke and get along just fine, but they’re not similar at all, not really. Somewhere along the way they had found something to share after races, for good or bad, but it was always hard, and fast, and cold. Not like this. Not the way they were pressed against one another right now, Fernando planting kisses on his head, easing down the waistband of his jeans. Robert feels his dick begin to swell again. Fernando’s body is warm and inviting, and Robert bites his neck softly before moving back to Fernando’s lips, which welcome him hungrily. The kiss is hot, and needy, and soon Robert can feel Fernando’s cock pressing hard against his thigh. It is always like this with them. Once is never enough. Robert knows that it may have been Kimi between Fernando’s legs minutes before, but it was _he_ that had made Fernando come. He moans slightly at the thought of it, and feels Fernando’s hands slither down inside his trousers by way of an answer, squeezing his ass so hard it’s deliciously painful.

“Please,” Fernando whispers, grabbing Robert’s hand and placing it on his groin. Robert obliges, pulling down the zipper and finding Fernando’s erection, hard and aching and craving the relief that Robert’s hand can bring.

“No,” Robert tells him. This feels more normal now – Fernando wanting something that Robert can deliver. “No,” he repeats, backing away. “Bed.”

They turn, see Kimi lounging against the headboard, the bottle of Korsenkova now empty. Kimi smiles at Robert salaciously, then looks to Fernando. His jeans are undone and he’s visibly aroused. Robert’s eyes narrow. No, he doesn’t get Fernando. Not the way Robert is going to have him. Only he can do this to Fernando, only he can know what it feels like. He pulls off his t-shirt, steps out of his jeans, and watches as Fernando does the same. Only Kimi remains clothed, his dick poking out of his jeans as he backs up to the head of the bed, letting he and Fernando have room. They kneel, facing one another, and as their mouths meet, so do their hard-ons – Robert feels the silky flesh of Fernando’s cock rub temptingly against his own, and his dick slaps upwards towards his stomach. His lean body looks even paler against Fernando’s dark flesh, and Robert bends to run his tongue along the Spaniard’s inner thigh. He hears Fernando shudder as he licks further up, briefly letting his mouth rest upon Fernando’s shaft. He tastes salty, dangerous. There’s a tug on his hair, and he hears his lover’s voice.

“Now. Now, Robert.”

Robert hears the voice, husky, almost pleading. Fernando kneels on the bed on all fours, arching his back, inviting Robert in. Robert kneels behind him, staring at Kimi, who is still lying there, his back against the pillows. Kimi sits up, pulling down his jeans and placing his rigid cock into Fernando’s mouth. Robert looks away as Fernando wraps his full lips around it, moving backwards on the bed a little, requesting, begging for what Robert can give him.

Robert tongues his entrance slowly, hearing a guttural moan escape from Fernando’s mouth, muffled only by Kimi’s dick, that he’s sucking on eagerly. Robert looks down, sees the pre-cum glistening on the tip of his cock, and rubs it between Fernando’s ass-cheeks, preparing the older man for what’s about to happen. Fernando groans again, frustrated now, and Robert takes a deep breath as he pushes the tip of his cock inside him. He lets it sit there for a few seconds, allowing Fernando to get used to his girth, before driving it further, hearing himself give a grunt as Fernando’s body accommodates him, squeezing around him gratefully. Robert pulls out gently before pushing his dick back inside, and then he’s thrusting, thrusting, grabbing onto Fernando’s hips as he pummels in and out relentlessly. Robert shuts his eyes and lets the feeling of his erection inside Fernando envelop him. This is when he feels that he can be who he truly is. He’s spent all his life feeling awkward, and alone, and like he doesn’t belong, but when he’s with this man, when he’s with his Fernando, kissing him, fucking him, he feels real. He feels complete. Every part of him seems to melt away, every part except the bit of him that’s inside Fernando.

Looking up, Robert sees Kimi. He sees Kimi’s hands in Fernando’s hair, can tell by the look on the Finn’s face that he’s going to come. He’s going to come in Fernando’s mouth and Robert can’t bear that thought. He gives a cough, breaks the spell that Fernando has cast over Kimi. The blonde looks up and icy grey eyes meet green. Robert gives a shake of his head, so small that it’s practically imperceptible. _No. He’s mine._ Kimi slowly nods, and something resembling an understanding passes between them. He removes his hands from Fernando’s head and slowly backs away. He slides off the bed and Robert watches as he slumps into the chair in the corner, quickly bringing himself to a messy climax as he watches Robert re-commence his thrusting. Now Fernando’s pushing back again, and Robert feels the pressure build up in his balls. He reaches in front, grips Fernando’s stiff organ and rubs his hand up and down the shaft. His palm is rewarded with Fernando’s hot seed, and Robert reaches the point of no return as he pulls out and his body jerks, shooting come onto the tanned back in front of him.

Robert feels his chest rising and falling rapidly as his heart rate slows. He leans forward, planting his face in the damp tendrils of hair at the nape of Fernando’s neck. He places a kiss on them, his lips wide open, wanting to say something, wanting to whisper in Fernando’s ear. A hand reaches backwards, finds his, and squeezes it. Robert grips the hand back, reluctant to let go. Another squeeze, and Robert feels his mouth break into the tiniest of smiles. 

 

*

 

Kimi lies on top of the bed, naked and idly flicking through the many TV channels. His cock lies limp against his thigh. He’s exhausted and more than a little drunk, but sleep is the last thing on his mind right now. He reaches out to the glass of water he has on the bedside table, scooping out the ice-cubes and placing them on his chest. He lies there, idly watching them liquify and trickle in rivulets down his navel, towards his dick. An hour has passed since Fernando and Robert left. Robert had gone first, simply nodding as he left the room, and Kimi had believed, really believed that Fernando might stay. But he’d underestimated the two of them, underestimated the depth of feeling there. He could tell that even _they_ weren’t completely aware of it. Fernando had looked longingly at the door as Robert walked out, and Kimi had simply told him to go. He was no longer interested, anyhow. All that time of wanting Fernando, imagining what his cock must look like, what it must taste like. And the whole time, Kimi had known that he didn’t have Fernando, would never have him. Robert? Robert was never a factor. Kimi had no interest in him. He could see the same aloofness there, the same detached attitude, and that doesn’t excite Kimi. He needs different, opposite.

Kimi thinks of how tonight hadn’t even been about Fernando and Robert. He’d invited them to his room, just the two of them. But then when he’d thought about what might happen, he’d invited a third. Felipe. Kimi knows that everyone thinks he’s such a mystery, that Felipe is the open one in the team. Sometimes he thinks that it’s the other way around; that Felipe is the one with hidden depths. He gives a sigh as the ice runs over his groin, melting on his skin. His cock twitches as he thinks about his teammate. It didn’t happen tonight, but Kimi will figure out a way. After all, he has the rest of the season. And he has all next year too.


End file.
